The World Awakening

by Dan Koboldt

  “That little bit of leverage wasn’t going to hold them forever,” Richard said. “More importantly, it’s kept their attention while I put some other pieces in place.”

  Veena marveled at his confidence. Even in the face of disaster and near-impossible odds, Richard always had a plan. And now I’m part of it. “It was a close thing, getting away from them.”

  “Good. It was meant to be.”

  “Should I be offended that they didn’t try to come back for me?” For a moment, she’d believed they would. The boat had started to turn around, and Julio was shouting her name. But they went on, and Mansfield scooped her up instead.

  “Kiara will put the mission first until the day she dies,” Richard said.

  That was true—Logan and Julio followed her orders. Sometimes a little too well. “Oh, that reminds me.” Veena dug out the tiny metal snuffbox she’d borrowed from Mansfield. “My comm unit.”

  He started to reach for it, but paused. “Are you certain you’re ready to hand this over?”

  “Yes.” Not only because she didn’t want the company tracking her, either. She just couldn’t listen to Julio’s attempts to reach her anymore. He tried once every two hours, like clockwork. Every transmission brought a pinprick of guilt to her stomach. Poor Julio. He was her main regret about how this played out. Even here, in Richard’s awe-inspiring presence, she rather missed him.

  “Very well.” He took the little case from her, but then it tumbled from his fingers and clattered to the floor. He gasped. His legs gave out. He crumpled to the floor before she could catch him. “Richard!”

  The doors to the chamber burst open. Moric practically flew in. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Veena knelt beside Richard and turned his head toward her.

  His eyes fluttered open. “That was strange.”

  Thank the gods. “Are you all right?”

  Moric appeared beside her. “Move away from him, Veena.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this is not a natural affliction.”

  Suspicion flared in her. “How do you know?”

  “I felt it. That’s why I came in.”

  Not natural. He must have meant magical. She took her hand from Richard’s chest and moved back.

  Moric took her place. “Richard?”

  “Moric.” Richard licked his lips. “I feel strange.”

  “May I examine you?”

  “By all means.”

  He put his hands on Richard’s chest and closed his eyes.

  Richard gasped again, and arched his back. Moric lifted his hands. Confusion knotted his forehead. “I don’t understand.”

  “Is he going to be all right?” Veena asked.

  “Well, there’s no physical injury, but . . .” He trailed off, and shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “What doesn’t?”

  “His arcane protections are no longer in place.”

  Richard coughed. “I thought we had a bargain.”

  “So did I. Unless . . .” He tapped a finger against his chin, then stood suddenly. “I must go.”

  “Where are you going?” Veena demanded. “You can’t leave him like this.”

  “He’ll recover in a few minutes.”

  “What about the protections? Can you restore them?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not a simple enchantment. Which raises the question of why it seems to have been undone.” He strode toward the door. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  “And until then?” Veena called.

  Moric paused long enough to look back at her. “Until then, he’s as vulnerable as you and I.”

  Well, it figured. Veena traveled all the way across the Alissian mainland to join her former mentor, probably just in time to see him assassinated. He’d recovered quickly enough after Moric departed, and now seemed perfectly hale. But when she looked at him, she imagined she saw a target on his back. He stood and wandered over to the window again.

  “Richard, get away from the window!” Veena snapped.

  “It’s perfectly safe.”

  “It was perfectly safe. Why would the magicians revoke your protection?”

  He frowned. “They’re normally not so capricious. I’m sure it’s a simple misunderstanding.”

  “What is the nature of this deal you have with them?”

  “It’s been in place for decades. Their arcane protections on the Prime, in exchange for our navy patrolling the seas around their island.”

  “But you recalled the navy.”

  “Temporarily.”

  “Did you tell them it was temporary?”

  “You know the saying, Veena. Loose lips sink ships.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “In this case, tight lips lost you the single best defense against CASE Global.”

  “I still have my guards.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen your guards in action.” Logan could cut his way through them without even breaking a sweat. “Don’t you have any more experienced soldiers?”

  “They’re needed elsewhere.”

  “Maybe you can hire some.”

  He laughed. “I’ve already conscripted or bought every experienced soldier in Valteron City.”

  “Well, you can’t walk around unprotected.” He wouldn’t be safe out in public. He might not even be safe here in the palace, given CASE Global’s motivation.

  “What do you propose?” he asked.

  “I propose that we find some fighters who know which end of a spear to stab with.”

  He shook his head. “I’m telling you. There isn’t a decent fighting man within two hundred leagues.”

  “That’s true. But there may be fighting women.”

  He blinked at that, and then realization crept over his face. “Surely . . . you don’t mean the Tukalu.”

  “That’s precisely who I mean.”

  “I’ve tried negotiating with them. It went nowhere.”

  “Maybe it needs a feminine touch.”

  He blew out air across his lips. “If you’d like to try it, be my guest.”

  “I’ll need a few things,” she said. “A letter of rights, of course. So that I can negotiate on your behalf.”

  “No problem.”

  “A ship with a reliable crew.”

  “You can have Captain Mansfield’s, if he’s still in port.”

  “That will do.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, actually,” she said. “I will need you to remain here in the palace until I return.”

  “I have a lot to do, Veena. I can’t simply—”

  “I’m sorry,” she broke in. “Are you arguing against common sense? I didn’t give up my life and career so that you could run off and get stabbed by some beggar that the company has brainwashed. You’ll remain here until I return.”

  He opened his mouth as if to protest, but seemed to think better of it. He coughed into his hand instead. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She smiled. “Now that is more like it.”

  He shuffled over to a small writing table where parchment, quill, and ink stood ready. “What shall we call you?”

  “Sorry?”

  “We can’t very well have you announcing yourself as Veena Chaudri.”

  He had a point; there was no sense in making it easy for Kiara to learn that she’d survived. A chance for a new name. “You know what? Call me Dahlia.”

  The Prime Directive made good time on the journey south. Veena had just finished reviewing the scant notes on Tukalu when calls of “Land, ho!” drifted in.

  Captain Mansfield knocked on her door a moment later. “M’lady Dahlia?”

  She savored the sound of her new name. “Come in.”

  Mansfield entered almost timidly, with his ridiculous feathered hat in his hands. “We’re in view of the island, m’lady.”

  “Already?”

  “We kept full sail all night.”

  “Bravo, Captain.” That wasn’t norm
al operating procedure for Valteroni ships. Her remark on the urgency must have come across well. Funny how a little sheet of parchment with the Prime’s personal seal transformed her from captive to honored guest. If Mansfield thought her sudden elevation unusual, he hid it well. He’d even insisted she take his cabin.

  She followed him to the deck, where the rising heat promised a sweltering day. A hot breeze filled the sails, which were perfectly taut. The deck sloped at a slight angle, but the ship was making five knots, possibly more. A few points to starboard, a dark peak jutted from the water.

  Tukalu.

  “Have you been here before?” she asked the captain.

  “Once, on a seasonal trade run. That was enough.”

  Technically, the volcanic island was a protectorate of Valteron, but the relationship was a distant one. Valteroni ships came twice a year for trade and tribute, but otherwise left the Tukalu alone.

  “What are they like?” Veena asked.

  “In a word? Terrifying.”

  She laughed softly. “This I can’t wait to see.”

  “We’ll drop anchor well offshore and run you in the tender, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.”

  The sailors drew lots to see who’d have to row her, which did not reflect well on what they thought of Tukalu overall. Veena put that at the back of her mind, and focused on what she saw. A dense jungle canopy formed the shoulders to the volcanic peak. She counted at least forty palm-frond huts along the narrow strip of white sand on the island’s northern shore. There were even more behind them, but it was hard to get a good count with the way they blended into the jungle. Various small watercraft plied the shallow waters close to shore. Canoes, mostly. On the surface, all of it suggested a fairly primitive society, but something bothered her about it. The Tukalu themselves paid little attention to Veena and her boat as they approached, but the canoes and the net-fishermen and the people on the beach all found a reason to be elsewhere as she neared the shore. The two sailors hopped out to pull the boat up to shore. They helped Veena out, touching their foreheads in odd salute, then shoved the boat back into the bay and hopped in.

  “Stay close, please,” Veena told them. With how fast they were rowing, she wasn’t sure they heard her.

  She turned to find a figure striding to her across the now-deserted beach. A woman, tall and lean, with her hair in long narrow braids. The shell-beads in them rattled against the rib-bone shirt. Are those human bones? Veena straightened and faced her, trying not to think about it. “Hello.”

  “It is not a trading time,” the woman said.

  “No.” Veena swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m here for other business. My name is Dahlia, and I speak for the Prime of Valteron.”

  “I am Alethea.” She rested a hand on the hilt of a long knife on her hip. It looked well-used. She waited with a perfect air of calm.

  Veena wasn’t sure how to begin, so she thought it best to be direct. “The Prime’s life is in danger.”

  “All lives are in danger.”

  “But he matters more than most.”

  Alethea shrugged. “He can hire guards.”

  “None that are good enough.” Or that I trust not to be CASE Global assassins. “I want the best. I hear that’s your people.”

  Alethea shook her head, rattling the beaded braids. “We do not fight for Valteron. That is outside the agreement.”

  “This is protection, not fighting.”

  “They are the same.”

  “We’re prepared to pay for your assistance.”

  “No.”

  “A lot of silver. Or gold, even. We can pay gold.”

  Alethea spread her hands out in either direction. “Look around you. Do you believe we are in need of shiny metals?”

  Veena began to understand why Richard had made little progress with these people. “All right. What can I offer you?”

  “The Tukalu need nothing.”

  “There must be something you want.”

  “We honor the agreement. That is all we want. Go home, Dahlia.” She turned and started to walk away.

  Veena wanted to scream. This was her first chance at actually doing something for Richard. If I fail at this, how will he trust me with anything else? She thought furiously for some other bargaining chip. Nothing came. She had the full power of Valteron in her hands, and it was worthless to these people. It’s as if they weren’t Valteroni at all. “How about your island?”

  Alethea halted. “What of it?”

  “This island belongs to Valteron, does it not?”

  “In name only. We live here.”

  “Possession is not ownership. Or independence, for that matter,” Veena said.

  Alethea took a few steps toward her. “You would grant us independence?”

  “No more tribute. New trading terms, with both sides as equal partners.”

  “In exchange for what, exactly?”

  “Twenty fighters to protect the Valteroni Prime, for two years.”

  Alethea pressed her lips together. “Two years is a long time. Let us say, one year.”

  Veena sighed. How long would the conflict with CASE Global last? Probably even longer than that. All that mattered now was that she bought some time. And that I push back a little. “A year and a day.”

  Alethea nodded. “But we cannot give up so many fighters. That will leave the island bare.”

  “How many can you spare, that will be enough to keep him safe?”

  “A dozen and one.”

  How cute. “Very well, a dozen. But I want your very best.”

  “You will get them.” Alethea smiled like a feral cat. “Starting with me.”

  Chapter 4

  Bait and Switch

  “Some of my military-minded colleagues think that Alissian instability is our ally, but I fervently disagree.”

  —R. Holt, “Alissia Retrospective: Fifteen Years”

  Logan had yet to find a part of Tion that he didn’t despise. That certainly applied to the central marshes where CASE Global had an emergency bunker. Well, used to have an emergency bunker. Holt had blown it up using the built-in security mechanism, and destroyed two more bunkers the exact same way. That left few safe havens in the southern half of the Alissian mainland.

  The port city of Bluewatch offered little comfort, either. Two ships flying Valteroni colors were docked when Logan and Mendez made port. They had the broad hulls of merchantmen, but their presence made Logan nervous. The Valteroni Prime had recently recalled its entire fleet. These ships were either the last stragglers on their way home, or on an outward mission with Holt’s orders. But when opportunity knocks, you take it.

  “We need a new ship,” Logan said.

  Mendez glanced up from honing his knife, which he’d done incessantly for the last week. “What’s wrong with this one?”

  “Nothing, except we took it in Valteron City.”

  “You think Holt’s put out a medieval A.P.B.?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him. But I’m more worried about Blackwell,” Logan said. From a mission standpoint, the raid on the admiral’s island keep had technically been a success. They’d recovered Holt’s bag of contraband, which was already on its way back to the gateway. Even so, the admiral got a good look at Logan’s face. That made it personal.

  But that wasn’t the worst part about the mission. That wasn’t the scene that played over and over in Logan’s head whenever he closed his eyes. Instead, he saw Veena’s look of surprise and alarm as the grappling hook dragged her overboard. That was hardly a safe topic for conversation, though. Neither was the pneumatic sniper rifle and box of venomous darts he’d picked up in Bayport.

  As an unspoken rule, he and Mendez were sticking to safe topics.

  “We should probably ditch it,” Logan said.

  “Fine by me. I’d love to get off this death trap.”

  “I’m betting you’ve sailed on worse.” Come on, give me a smile.

  Mendez didn’t o
blige him. “Just the one.”

  Logan eyed the smaller of the merchantmen, which looked to be around forty feet long, with a couple of sails. “You think we could sail one of those?”

  “By ourselves? Probably not. Need at least two more sets of hands.”

  “We could hire them, in a pinch.”

  “Why, what are you thinking?”

  Probably something foolish. “It’d be a lot easier to get into Valteron City if we had one of their ships.”

  “Or an Apache, as long as we’re daydreaming.”

  “I think we could pull it off,” Logan said.

  Mendez snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time around Bradley.”

  “I don’t think I spent enough.”

  “Still no word about him?”

  “The lieutenant has a team en route to the beacon he lit up, but I’m not optimistic,” Logan said.

  Everybody had a different theory as to why Bradley fell of the grid. Kiara suspected he’d gone A.W.O.L. just to annoy her. Mendez was thinking technical issues with Bradley’s comm unit. Logan took a darker view: the magician let his guard down, or overplayed his hand at the wrong moment, and got his throat cut. He’d never really taken things seriously, despite all the warnings about what a brutal world Alissia could be.

  Bradley wasn’t a safe topic. Neither was Holt, for that matter. Remove the threat had been the lieutenant’s orders. When Logan balked at it, he learned that CASE Global had effectively taken his wife and daughters hostage to guarantee his compliance. He had a feeling they’d done the same with Mendez’s family, too.

  “We can stand to look into it. Unless you got a better plan for slipping into Valteron under Holt’s nose?”

  Mendez returned to honing his knife.

  Didn’t think so. “Grab the gear,” Logan said. “We’re five minutes out.”

  The hiring of local mercenaries was a grand military tradition dating back to the Roman Empire. Logan had brought on Alissian contractors before, though they’d always had Holt’s team to find and vet appropriate candidates. With Veena gone, CASE Global’s research program had no visible leader. The lieutenant hadn’t mentioned finding a replacement, and frankly Logan didn’t care. It would be preemptive in any case, since they didn’t know for certain that Veena had perished. She might have made it to one of the ships, which meant that she’d be a prisoner. Holt’s prisoner. That might explain the radio silence.